Incidents in the Kitchen

“Yow!” is an oft heard expletive in my kitchen, my husband would likely claim.

While I’d disagree with just how often, I’d be fibbing if I were to pretend I never hurt myself in the kitchen.

Due not to lack of skill, but to my seemingly constant need to multi-task, I can’t count the number of times I’ve sliced my finger, burned my hand or splattered hot oil on my skin.

Not to worry; I typically just run the affected burn under cold water and wrap it in ice, or create a makeshift bandage with a towel and carry on cooking with one hand.

These serious of mild but unfortunate events, while not preventing me from continuing to multi task while cooking, do serve the important role of continuing to make me stop and pause (even if it is only for a second), then breathe and tell myself to slow down, which I do (albeit temporarily).

I have a theory on this: ¬†being the type A over-acheiving personality that I am, I wonder whether a small cut on the thumb or a bump on the hip (thanks to the sharp edge of the stainless counter), in small, steady doses keep me from going 200 mph all the time… and then ending up in a serious type of accident, rather than a mild kitchen one.

If so, I’ll take it!